


Fate and Stars

by thenukacolagirl



Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel), Choices (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bed Sex, Blow Jobs, Eating out, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Healthy Relationships, Making Out, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Rough Kissing, Telepathic Bond, Vaginal Fingering, i said FUCK CANON, poly RIGHTS OR NO RIGHTS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenukacolagirl/pseuds/thenukacolagirl
Summary: Tyril was never a firm believer when others used the excuse “it just happened.”
Relationships: Imtura Tal Kaelen/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow), Mal Volari/Imtura Tal Kaelen, Mal Volari/Original Female Character (s), Tyril Starfury/Imtura Tal Kaelen, Tyril Starfury/Mal Volari, Tyril Starfury/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 20





	Fate and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason this exists is because I'm bi,poly, bitter and love to say fuck canon whenever possible 
> 
> (This is also horribly half proof read and half I gave up on)

Tyril was never a firm believer when others used the excuse “it just happened.”

To him, things just “didn’t happen”. Actions are calculated, thoughts are spoken and words are meticulously said. Everything had a goal, an ending. Granted, some things unexpectedly come up, but he works with it, he  _ always _ finds a way to work with it. 

And yet now, in some way of twisted fate or a trick from the gods, he’s been corrected. Taking steadfast ground rules of morals and proving him wrong.

He  _ should _ have picked up on it with Azari first. How unexpectedly he fell for the elven woman with a spitfire attitude and equally matched impulsive bravery. He thought he managed it well at first, keeping her at arms length, keeping everyone at arms length really. But the hours became days and the days rolled into weeks, all they did was prove he was falling too hard and fast for his liking with no way to catch himself if he fell too far.

And he did, he has, fallen too far. 

Because she wasn’t the only one he fell for.

Azari was the first of… what could be many. The first to be bonded, to understand her physically and emotionally. Tyril understood everyone on a surface level in the start of the journey and quickly, without a course of action and a way to stop himself, he longed to understand Mal and Imtura more. The bonds  _ aching _ to connect with them and he denied it, starved them of what could be.

Perhaps that’s how he got where he was tonight. How things “just happened”.

How now, currently, he’s pressing sweet kisses against Azari’s thighs, kneeling before her as she sits on the edge of the bed, her back pressed against Imtura’s chest, her hands threading through the orc’s hair and Mal’s. Their mouths hotly pressing against her neck, trailing kisses down her body, Imtura’s tusks scraping over flushed light purple skin. 

Tyril feels what she does, Azari allowing for him to partake in the sensations that he currently can’t get. Not that he minds, he’s buried between her legs, kissing skin thats peppered in small stretch marks and getting to taste the wetness that coats it. He gets to feel the other two lovers touches and kisses all while experiencing his own brewing sensations. The tug that gnaws at his core, the pulsing heart that’s intensifying with every strong heartbeat that pounds in his chest.

He grazes his lips over the most inner and sensitive part of her, smiling to himself when a loud moan rips through Azari, her body shuddering.

“A-ah  _ fuck _ Tyril…” Azari gasps, curling her fingers more in their other lovers' hair. “Stop teasing me.”

Mal chuckles, hearty and deep. “A tease, huh?” The rouge removes his lips from Azari’s neck, letting her hand fall from his hair and instantly going to Tyril’s and tangling up in his long black locks. “I’ll have to get in line. You’d look good between my legs too.” His own comment makes Mal laugh again while snaking a hand over Azari’s body and letting it roam across her breast, playing with her hard nipple and watching her gasp and squirm.

“You’re not helping M-Mal!” Azari cries out, throwing her head back, letting Imtura kiss the stretched out curve in her neck, biting at it and sucking on skin. Leaving hickeys to form. 

“Mmmm, not if I get to him first,” Imtura muses, one hand squeezing Azari’s other breast. Her usual strong and rough touch now softer as fingers squeeze her hard nipple. Imtura’s other hand burying itself up in the white-blonde locks of her elven lover, seemingly kneading at her scalp and drawing out moans. “Been wanting to know what that tongue of his can do.”

Tyril can only smile at the sight before him. Something so intoxicatingly beautiful about seeing the three of them. The banter, the differing dynamics. Imtura and Mal focused on pleasuring Azari while playfully teasing one another and “fighting” over him. Tyril would give them the world, all the pleasure and desire that came with it, and fulfill what they long for without a second thought. 

A dirty thought floods his mind. One that makes him blush, knowing a deep violet shade kisses the tip of his ears and spreads over his face. The imprints of stars showing through it’s that intense. He groans, desperately kissing and sucking at Azari’s clit as he steadies himself on her knees, wanting to give into his little desire of hearing all three of them give cries of ecstasy.

When Azari comes, Tyril feels how spent she is and how much more she wants. He draws away from her, some of her cum around his mouth that he happily licks away at the corners. He gazes up at the three, all of who look down at him, eyes heavy with infatuation and lust. She’s breathing heavily, slumped against Imtura’s chest. 

“ _ Fuck _ -” Mal breathes out, eyes locked fully onto Tyril, buring with need and untapped wants. 

“Like what you see?” Tyril muses, trailing eyes across his exposed chest, the chest hair not able to fully cover the forming hickies and red markings. 

“More than you’ll ever know. Now come here,” the rugged human beckons him, heavy lidded eyes and tone more sultry then expected. 

He rises from the floor and in one fluid movement, is up on the bed and snaking one hand into Mal’s hair, the other pressing into his pelvic region and feeling the muscles tighten. His lips hungrily kissing the rouge’s, coaxing moans and hardening both their cocks. Mal slides both his hands up his back, mindful of the scar that runs through his shoulder blades, nails leaving markings along the way.

“You both taste good,” Mal mutters between hot gasping breaks in their kiss, eyes glancing over to Azari and Imtura who watch them intensely before falling shut again and deepening the kiss.

“Better start sharing, Valori,”Imtura growls, voice thick with need, chest laboriously rising and falling, “or I’m keeping one of them to myself.” She furthers her point by kissing Azari’s neck and continuing to play with her nipples. Imtura’s other hand sliding down between Azari’s thighs and fingering her. Deep circles being pressed against her clit, cries of pleasure coming from the smaller elf.

Tyril tenses and body gives a tremble. His nerves and Azari’s clashing together. His cock twitching and Mal smirking in their lewd kiss. Though he wants the control over the three of them, to be the one to make them scream his name and come by his mouth and hands, it’s a losing battle.

Though, he doesn’t exactly mind losing this one.

Giving a throaty chuckle, Mal pulls away from the kiss and leans over to Imtura. His touch leaving Tyril’s and moving to Imtura, snaking one hand up behind and into her hair, gripping it with vigor and shoving her forward so their lips meet. His other hand kneading her breast in strong motions. The sweet words of “princess”, the nickname he first gave her, dying on the human male lips like a prayer. It's a sight Tyril adores watching, body overstimulated and magic untamed.

The magic hisses around them and crackles in some places. It creates an aura of electricity, one that arguably adds more to their passionate moment. Driving kisses to be deeper, touches to burn and mean more, the moans and sounds of sex reaching the heavens. 

He can’t help it, not around all three of them. Losing or winning be damned, their adventure is ending soon and he  _ wants _ them. He  _ needs _ them. He knows Azari is by his side until the very end, their bonds setting their fate in stone. But Imtura and Mal, he feels he can’t let them go. He’s deprived himself of them for too long, bonding with them would everything he’s hoped for and more

Watching Azari come again around Imtura’s fingers pushes him more to the edge. She takes them so well, she’s deserving of it after all. Every last one of them is deserving of pleasures tonight. 

_ So are you. _

__ And he was, he  _ is _ and it’s taken this journey that once started off as nothing but a seething revenge and honor restoring trip that became so much more to realize that. 

“Tyril?”

The voice jarrs him out of his thought, a fleeting skip of his heartbeat scaring him into paying attention. He focuses back in, registering the voice belonging to Imtura who is blithely smiling and relaxed. He’s never noticed how beautiful her hair is in dim candle light, or how freckles that look like star constellations dot along her breasts. 

“You’re staring,” Imtura tells him, biting back a moan when Mal kisses the side of her neck.

“Merely admiring I’d say, princess,” he responds, watching heat flood her cheeks at the nickname.

_ No you’re thinking. Your eyebrows do that thing where they get scrunched up when you think _ .

Ah, there it was, there was his Azari. Seldom did they communicate like this, only speaking in each other's heads, but when they did, it always felt rather intimate. He takes note of how the other elf is content to sit in the arms of Imtura and be amenable with her current position. He can’t repress the smile that tugs on the corner of his lips as he watches the way she squirms from the orcs hold and comes closer to him, slipping a tender hand across his cheek.

This close,he sees the dreamy look in her eyes, the kisses of hickies on her neck and can smell the sex on her. Its intoxicating, everything about her is. He feels the ache in her body, the raw pleasure that burns in her veins. 

“Don't just feel,” Azari whispers to him, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips, “and let us take care of you now.”

_ Fuck _ .

In the moment, in time itself, everything fell perfectly into place for him.

For  _ them _ .

Tyril gives in, hard and fast. It started out with a kiss on Azari’s lips, needy and starving. Bodies fitting against one anothers and allowing her to pull him in. The catalytic piece needed to push him over the edge and fall. 

The fall wasn’t scary like he anticipated it to be. He can’t be scared when his lovers and him fall together into a deep state of bliss. Lips kissing on skin, limbs tangled and moans reaching to the stars. The sheets beneath bodies acting as a cooling touch to searing hot skin, or an anchor when there’s nothing to hold onto. Pleasure becomes a sea of ecstasy and sensuality, drowning him and everyone else.

People say drowning is terrifying, but this isn’t at all. Not when he has Mal between his legs, mouth around his cock and unable to stop the cry of the rogue's name from leaving his throat as he comes. Not when Imtura bucks her hips and presses herself deeper against his own fingers, letting her scream his name so loud his ancestors would hear it from their graves. And of course he can’t forget his Azari-though saying she’s only his doesn’t feel fitting anymore.

He can’t ignore the way her lips feel on his skin, kissing on his chest, teeth biting at his nipples. Damn even her hands being in his hair and tugging at it brings new waves of white hot pleasure to drown him.

It became hard to track time and its passage beyond that. Though he’s not going to complain, he can’t when he remembers at one point seeing Mal come undone by Imtura’s hand and mouth. Something strangely attractive about the way she had licked his cum from her tusks with pride. 

But the time comes to an end, as all good things do, and it’s left them in a pile of limbs sprawled against the bed. Bodies too heavy to move, bones aching and the magic dying down in a hiss. The thundering heartbeat of his own and Azari’s wanting to lull him to sleep, Imtura’s hair in his face with a faint of sea salt to it, a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

In the silence, broken only by quick huffs and stifling groans, does the dread of the morning come over him. It’s made apparent by how the bonds didn’t connect them tonight, further driven home by the point that the journey tomorrow was ending. It makes his hold around Imtura’s waist that much tighter, to kiss Mal’s hand that he holds just a tad bit longer.

Whatever is to come next, he just hopes the stars have more planned for them.


End file.
